


Lost a coin, found a treasure

by carxies



Series: Rental boyfriend au [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mutual Pining, i broke my keyboard while writing this, rich bo and poor akaashi is my favourite thing idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carxies/pseuds/carxies
Summary: Akaashi nods again and tries to sort out his thoughts – what to ask first? The money, tells him the voice in the back of his head, ask about the money. “What exactly does ‘rental boyfriend’ mean?”“Hm. Rental boyfriends are the people who provide company to our clients.”“Company? Why do people hire them?”“It’s usually because of bets, getting back on exes, weddings and bigger events that require a partner – those can be stressful for single people. However, don’t be fooled, because many times, people just want to enjoy date activities without getting a real date. So, they hire a rental boyfriend who will accompany them whenever they want to go.”Sounds kind of fake..Or, Akaashi needs money and so he takes job he kind of judges





	

**Author's Note:**

> At first this was supposed to be on going fic, but I wasn't able to keep up with it, so now it's one shot instead. I might write some parts as bonus sometime

“I get it,“ Akaashi spits out and wipes the corner of his mouth. Blood.. _great_. “You will have your fucking money by the end of the week,” he growls and with that, slams the door closed.

 

 

**

 

The office isn’t too luxurious, but it is still bigger than Akaashi’s whole flat. It shouldn’t be a surprise, not in company this fancy. Although Akaashi had tried his best to dress up, his black skinny jeans paired with the leather jacket fall short for this kind of place. Not that he really cares – the man who personally gave him the little business card and invented him here already knows Akaashi isn’t one to afford anything nicer than this. No man as poor as Akaashi can be expected to show up in elegant suit or neat hairstyle.

 

Akaashi spins around in the huge chair again, gazing at the happy family picture in his hands. His focus stays on the middle aged man in the middle, his hair slowly thinning. He eagerly invited Akaashi to come to his office to talk, about his weird offer, and Akaashi-

 

He isn’t sure why he actually took the business card and came all the way here, to meet with the man again, to let him try to convince Akaashi to work for him. Honestly, Akaashi is anything but excited about the whole idea, but the money must be better than anything he can earn in the dirty convenience store.

 

He’s been waiting for nine minutes now and the bubblegum in his mouth has already lost its previous taste. It’s still good enough to keep him busy though. A sound of the door opening – finally –startles him and he hastily puts the framed photograph on the desk in front of him, jumping to his feet.

 

“Akaashi-kun, thank you for waiting,” the man approaches him as Akaashi swallows his disgusting bubblegum.

 

“It’s been only ten minutes,” he tries to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but fails.

 

The man simply laughs and waves his hand, “Let’s sit down and have a little chat.”

 

Akaashi nods and settles back in his previous seat, with the difference that this time, his feet stay on the ground. The man sits in his own chair behind the desk and if he notices his picture on the wrong spot, he doesn’t say anything about it.

 

“You said you had questions, Akaashi-kun. I’m here to answer them as best as I can.”

 

Akaashi nods again and tries to sort out his thoughts – what to ask first? _The money_ , tells him the voice in the back of his head, _ask about the money._ “What exactly does ‘rental boyfriend’ mean?”

 

“Hm. Rental boyfriends are the people who provide company to our clients.”

“Company? Why do people hire them?”

“It’s usually because of bets, getting back on exes, weddings and bigger events that require a partner – those can be stressful for single people. However, don’t be fooled, because many times, people just want to enjoy date activities without getting a real date. So, they hire a rental boyfriend who will accompany them whenever they want to go.”

 

 _Sounds kind of fake- Akaashi’s head starts to spin._ “You say people, but-“

 

“Both women and men are our clients. Although we currently have only two employees that accept both male and female clients.”

 

“Okay,” Akaashi murmurs. He stares at the picture again.

 

“Akaashi-kun, I want you to know that we’re a serious company and everyone here takes their job seriously as well. If you decide to give it a try, I expect your best shot.” He looks up at one of the posters hanging on the wall while Akaashi chews on his bottom lip.

 

“Can I ask another question?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you pick me?”

 

The man turns to him, a smile on his face. “Good question. I think you have what it takes – the look, the personality that attracts people. I myself pick each of my employees and so far, I’ve been wrong only about two of them.”

 

Akaashi gazes around the room once more. It doesn’t look like a place where he would fit, not with his black clothes, pierced ears and sarcasm-thick voice. Maybe he’s meant to be the third.

 

“I don’t think I’m a good actor,” he admits into the silence of the office.

 

“This isn’t about acting!” the man across him laughs. “I don’t expect you to understand right away, but it really isn’t.

 

Akaashi hums, perhaps a bit impolitely, and bites down on his lip – he regrets swallowing the bubblegum now. He lets his eyes fall down to his bruised hands, observing the latest scratch. “How much would I earn monthly?”

 

“We don’t do ‘monthly’. You get paid per date, depending on your rank and if the client decided to tip you.”

“So like a whore,” Akaashi mutters before he can control himself.

“No, Akaashi-kun,” the older man chuckles. “We offer good time, but not _that_ good. “

“Then, if I understand it right, people pick who they want?”

“Yes.”

“What if no one picks me?”

“I doubt that will be your case, but- You don’t have to worry about that. There are clients who can’t decide or want to be surprised; these clients get assigned to the cast. And it’s not like we have that many employees to work with.”

 

Akaashi frowns and pulls his sleeves over his palms. “What I need to get started?”

 

“You will go through training, of course. We will create your profile and that’s about it.”

 

Akaashi cannot afford to think twice about it. The bills need to be paid and Akaashi to be fed. “Anything else I should know before I sign myself up for this?”

 

 

**

 

Much to Akaashi’s surprise, there aren’t any changes of his looks required. His photos are taken in the clothes he arrives in the first day of officially working – the ripped jeans and black top. His hair stays messy, his piercings in his ears and the little bit of black eyeliner around his eyes isn’t wiped away. And yet, when he looks at the three pictures that were chosen as the final ones, he barely recognizes himself. It’s probably the light in the atelier.

 

He still goes to his night shift that day.

 

 

**

 

He meets two of his co-workers on the third day. They are like polar opposites - the silver haired man’s smile is sweeter than honey, while the brunet one’s is more of a smirk, but they’re both exceedingly handsome and Akaashi is jealous that he was born only with his boring resting bitch face and few good comebacks if he’s eaten enough.

 

“Akaashi-kun, this is Sugawara and Oikawa. They will be in charge of your training.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Akaashi bows. He already knows he’s about to go through hell, especially when the brunet called Oikawa gives him a _look_ and there’s something behind it.

 

 

**

 

Oikawa is a little shit. Sugawara is a little shit in disguise. However, they do teach Akaashi as much as they can during the short amount of time they manage to make between each other’s shifts.

 

Akaashi learns that each ‘boyfriend’ is a type. Sugawara is apparently a ‘sweet’ (which is a _huge_ lie, Akaashi thinks) and Oikawa is ‘playful’ (you’re sure it’s not  evil??).  They tease Akaashi and Akaashi fights back, but he likes them in a way.

 

He earns the ‘mysterious’ type his eighth day.

 

 

**

 

Akaashi is called to the boss’ office on his tenth day of training. When he walks inside, his stomach tight (both with hunger and nerves), there’s another man sitting across the boss.

 

“Akaashi-kun, please, have a seat. I think you have your first client right here.”

“Oh.” He hopes the bruise on his cheek isn’t visible; Sugawara tried to mask it with makeup after all.

 

Akaashi wonders if he can refuse – if his bills allow him to refuse. He doesn’t feel ready yet, even though Oikawa and Sugawara have already taught him a lot. Oikawa is kind of a genius and shared few tips on how to read a person, which Akaashi finds both really helpful and very scary. Sugawara, on the other hand, showed him how to behave around different types of people and how to stay in ‘role’ the whole time. Akaashi has the most difficulties with that – his little comments and smirks still slip out time from time and apparently, it could be a problem if it was in front of less tolerant client.

 

“I haven’t finished my training,” he speaks up, a bit louder than his shocked ‘oh’ that stayed with no reply. “Furthermore, I haven’t decided if I want to accept male clients.”

 

The stranger is wearing more expensive suit than Akaashi’s boss – _even poor Akaashi can tell that much_ – as he sits in the chair, his back straight and head held up high. Akaashi takes one, two, three steps closer. Surely, this man has no reason not to hold himself with pride; his hair, black and white (or white and black?) is gently pushed back from his forehead, his face has amazing bone structure (Akaashi is jealous, _again_ ) and the suit seems to be hiding some nice muscles underneath it.

 

Akaashi, who’s never been one to be bothered by gender or definition of his own sexuality, must admit his potential client _is_ handsome, no matter from which angle you look at him. However, there’s one thing-

 

The man watches him, his expression gentle, but his eyes have some kind of wild glint into them. Akaashi becomes self conscious under gaze this intense and he crosses his arms over his chest as a shield, as if his slim arms could protect him from the fit guy in front of him. He does not like being stared at like he’s someone’s prey. _This rich guy’s prey especially._

 

Akaashi wonders if Oikawa or Sugawara would accept this offer if they were standing here instead of him.

 

“I’ve already informed Bokuto-san about this fact.”

 

Akaashi nods and is ready to leave, stops halfway through bowing his head, when the boss continues.

 

“However, he demands you.“

 

Akaashi looks up and faces the stranger, who barely blinked an eyelid. “May I ask why?”

 

He doesn’t know what exactly he expects – that the man has a thing for not-so-good-looking-and-poor guys? Something kinky _? He looks like someone who could be kinky_ , the dirty voice in the back of Akaashi’s mind whispers.

 

“You seem to be able to fulfil my requirements,” is the reply, loud and confident. “I am willing to give you twice as much as you get per normal date for each day you spend with me.”

 

Each _day_? Not _dates_? Does this person really want to _own_ Akaashi? And why pay for _him_ , when this guy could most likely get anyone he wanted for free? With his looks, the sharp jaw and pretty eyes, Akaashi doubts he would even have to try. He is judging this objectively, of course.

 

However, truth to be told, Akaashi _is_ temped, his heart speeding up and pupils going wide; he is supposed to earn good money for normal date and _twice_ as much .. His mind goes crazy just at the thought. He could soon find a better place to live – something bigger, brighter, closer to the centre of the city. He could treat himself more often, _daily_ perhaps, and all the delicious food his ruined and always empty stomach dreams about, get all the cool clothes. He could get another piercing, properly this time and not on his floor, his friend pushing sewing needle through his skin. That would be nice.

 

He gazes at the man. He is waiting for the answer, his eyes focused on Akaashi only while his boss is forgotten somewhere in the back of the room and Akaashi’s mind. This man demanded Akaashi even after the boss had told him that Akaashi isn’t even available yet – it kind of excites him to know that he _is_ wanted after all, someone is willing to pay for _him._

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline taking over his body when he finally opens his mouth again to speak a little too fast.

 

“I accept. But if it’s some kind of fifty shades of grey shit, I’m out.” Akaashi can see his boss placing a hand over his forehead, but this person should know that this is who Akaashi is.

 

The stranger – his client – Bokuto – smiles at him and his eyes soften like the rest of his features. Akaashi doesn’t know what to think; is the man happy that he has won Akaashi over? _How funny that sounds,_ the dirty voice says, _it’s almost like from some badly written love story._

 

Oh, but Akaashi isn’t one to believe in love.

 

 

**

 

“What brought you two to this kind of work?” Akaashi asks before he buries his face further into his scarf. They walk down the street, chatting and chuckling until the atmosphere shirts and the laughter dies out.

 

“I lost my job and needed to move out of my old place,” Oikawa starts, his usually cheerful tone now gone. “The old man somehow found me and offered this to me. I didn’t want to, at first, but I really needed the money, so I accepted. And I’m here ever since then.”

 

Sugawara nods. “I was also in need of money. I feel like the old man has a sixth sense and he knows when people need his help-“

“- beautiful people,” Oikawa adds.

“I think everyone working in the company is grateful to him.”

 

Akaashi hums and focuses on the street again.

 

 

**

 

“I can even borrow clothes from here?” Akaashi asks; the disbelief clear in his voice.

 

“Yeah,” Oikawa says nonchalantly as he picks up another shirt. He holds it up, stares at it, turns it around, stares some more, and then neatly hangs it back. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? We are walking image of this company; of course they want us to look good.”

 

“Then why they let me be?”

 

“Because, Kei-chan,” the man takes another shirt, dark blue this time, “You have your own charm. When I first came here, I was a mess. _Pretty face, yes,_ but a mess overall. I _did_ need a makeover, unlike you. They fixed my hair and closet and here I am.”

 

Akaashi snorts. “Who the fuck says you have a pretty face?”

“Everyone does!”

 

Sugawara, who’s stayed quiet until this point, too occupied with some English book, chuckles from the sofa. “I don’t, for example. Akaashi, do you already know what’s awaiting you with your first client?”

 

Akaashi shakes head. “Not a clue. As long as I’m getting paid, I don’t really mind.”

 

“Don’t let the money get to you,” Sugawara says, closing his book and his voice is serious out of blue. “It can be tricky and lead you into a dark place.”

                                                              

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Akaashi replies and accepts the clothes Oikawa, who becomes strangely quiet as well, hands him. “Are you sure I should wear this? He is all fancy and-“

 

“And has chosen you for you,” Oikawa stops him. "I’m sure of _this,”_ he replies with a puzzled expression and if Akaashi blinked a second sooner than he did, he would miss the look his two co-workers exchange as he walks to the small changing room in the corner of the room.

 

 

**

 

The clothes look like they were pulled out of Akaashi’s closet – only if he was a little richer. The jeans fit him better than his own do; he doesn’t need a belt to keep them on his hips. The white shirt isn’t exactly his go to piece of clothing, but the leather jacket and black boots are just his style. Still, his heart beats so fast it could jump out of his chest.

 

His first client, Bokuto, is _rich_. So rich he has no problems with paying twice as much as he would normally and Akaashi almost believes he wouldn’t hesitate to raise the amount if Akaashi resisted a little more. And he decided to give his money on Akaashi.

 

What is worrying Akaashi aren’t his clothes; it’s him, raw underneath the expensive clothing. He has nothing much to offer – his personality is sarcasm and empty jokes every now and then, usually self-destructive ones, and he isn’t endlessly kind or caring, he doesn’t brighten up the whole room when he walks in and he isn’t someone who drags people close, no matter if they like him or not. Akaashi isn’t some amazing pattern like Sugawara or Oikawa – he is plain, a little blob of grey.

 

Another thing is - he is a simple man. He craves to be wanted and desired, he craves to feel in control of each situation. However, this is new; he’s at mercy of someone else, even worse, _other man._ Bokuto already has him wrapped around his finger while his fist is full of money even before their first date. _It’s messed up,_ _this word,_ Akaashi thinks. He has to bow and keep his mouth shit if he wants to live under a solid roof for at least another month, if he doesn’t want to lose yet another pound of his weight due not having enough to eat. So he grits his teeth and straightens his back, crosses his heart and looks at himself in the mirror for the last time. He catches his reflection giving him a look he himself doesn’t recognize – just how did he sink this low?

 

He had it all planned, when he was younger, when he was only 18, naive and hopeful, the world upon his palm. The same world brought him down to his knees, left him broken and sceptical. And here he is, at the age of 23, having accomplished nothing and selling himself just to stay alive for another miserable day. Akaashi would cry if his eyes hadn’t dried out years ago.

 

 

**

 

The man doesn’t let him wait – the second the clock ticks away 1 pm, the door opens and Bokuto, dressed in more casual clothes than Akaashi is, stands there with a soft smile on his face. _Don’t be fooled,_ Akaashi thinks as he bows before the man hurries him inside the apartment. It’s something between normal flat and an office, Akaashi notes. It reminds him of the room where he first saw Oikawa and Sugawara. It has a huge desk in the corner, but otherwise it looks rather like expensive living room.

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Bokuto says, “Will you have something to drink?”

 

Akaashi lets his gaze wander around and shakes head at the question. “No, thank you.”

 

“Just tell me if you want anything,” the taller man replies and sits on the armchair by the sofa, obviously waiting for Akaashi to do the same.

 

It’s strange how comfortable and uncomfortable one person can feel at the same time. The armchair is soft and Akaashi would probably fall asleep there in matter of seconds if Bokuto wasn’t across him, his intense eyes watching every move Akaashi dares to make.

 

“I guess you would like to hear why I hired you,” Bokuto speaks up and nods, agreeing with himself immediately. “I don’t exactly need a date, more like .. someone to accompany me to all these boring parties my family is invited to or I will die out of boredom there. Old people talking about politics are the worst, I’m telling you. Anyway, I don’t have any ‘appropriate’ friends to bring, that’s why.”

 

Akaashi snorts before he can stop himself. Rich boy, who most likely never worked a day in his life, needs to buy a friend? Akaashi bets his bed has always been made on money, his butler taught him how to tie his shoes and he doesn’t know what it’s like not to get the toy he liked in the store. Akaashi’s stomach turns at the thought.

 

“It sounds ridiculous, I know, but don’t worry! I will teach you what you need to know so you don’t feel out of place there!”

“When is the first party?” Akaashi asks, the disgusted tone remaining on his tongue no matter how much he fights it.

“In about two months,” Bokuto says, his voice nothing like the excited and bubbly one seconds ago. Akaashi swears that there was a hurt look on his face for a fraction of a second, but Akaashi couldn’t care less-

He already hates Bokuto and his privileged life more than his freezing hell of an apartment.

 

Akaashi feels uneasy when he’s leaving the building – he has really sold himself now, there’s no turning back. He gazes up at the dark sky, his pockets heavier with the money Bokuto gave him minutes ago. He heads back to work, to get changed into his own clothes.

 

He buys his favourite food that night, much tastier than his normal instant ramen, and pays his rent as soon as he steps into the house. He goes to bed with full stomach and turned on heating system. For the first time in months, he doesn’t worry about his fingers and toes getting so cold he can’t move them in the morning.

 

 

**

 

“Wow, you’re like, natural talent or something!” Bokuto calls happily when Akaashi gets all the spoons and forks right.

 

It’s not that hard to memorize, not when his goal is set and he can almost see his reward in his own hands. He bows and mutters his thanks.

 

Bokuto only waves his hand. “I’m glad you won’t have to struggle with this,” he says, honestly, “It’s only cutlery, but some people are so fixed on it, you wouldn’t believe. It took me at least a month to get it all right on the first try.”

“At what age did you start learning such shitty things, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, perhaps a bit too discourteously.

 

“When I was six,” the man replies and something tugs on Akaashi’s heart – it’s almost like sympathy for the six years old boy who had to learn useless things to please adults instead of playing with friends. However, he doesn’t feel sorry for current Bokuto, standing in front of him all tall and mighty.

 

Akaashi leans back in his seat and takes off his jacket, which has provided him some kind of shield so far. He isn’t sure if he can let his guard down just yet, the second time in of meeting up with Bokuto, but the room is so warm, _too warm._ He rolls the sleeves of his shirt (black one this time) up and when he’s one, he finds Bokuto looking at him, his expression unreadable. The atmosphere between them shifts and Akaashi cannot lay a finger on what caused it.

 

 

**

 

A fork, an ugly fork, a little fork,.. Ha, a _spoon_! Akaashi has to admit something – Bokuto has his respect for not going crazy from all this.

 

 

**

 

Bokuto takes him to a restaurant – really expensive one and Akaashi has to wear a suit to follow the dress code – to put their training into a test. Bokuto meets him looking similar to the first time they met, fancy and hot. Akaashi wears his first ever bought suit that Oikawa and Sugawara helped to pick. It’s not as nice as Bokuto’s, but-

 

Bokuto isn’t a dick about it. He looks Akaashi up and down, smiles and says: “You look especially nice today.”

 

And if Akaashi blush a little, it’s because of the harsh wind hitting his cheeks, not the genuine compliment accompanied with such pure smile it could probably wash away all Akaashi’s sins. _If only._

They have _reservation. A fucking reservation in a restaurant._ Akaashi’s head spins. He likes it though.

 

“Order whatever you want, Akaashi, it’s my treat for your hard work,” Bokuto says right as they sit down and the menus are given to them.  And so Akaashi does.

 

Bokuto talks most of the time. Akaashi switches between paying attention and letting his mind run wild as he gazes around the place. He watches the couple two tables away as Bokuto laughs at some joke Akaashi doesn’t understand. Three businessmen catch his eye while Bokuto is busy with some story about his co-worker.

 

When Akaashi finally turns to his client again, Bokuto is gazing down at the table separating them, his plate more than half full and his fork moving mindlessly between his fingers. It’s that moment when Akaashi realises he really is the third one to be picked by the old man wrongly.

 

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi starts quietly.

“Hm?” the man looks up at him, a small, sad smile appearing on his lips. Akaashi’s chest tightens. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m used to people not really listening to me,” he drops the fork and it falls on his plate with loud sound. “I guess we should wrap it up, you’re probably tired and bored to-“

 

_“Bokuto-san. “_

Bokuto runs his hand through his hair and he’s the one who looks _tired, exhausted even,_ and perhaps it’s the last piece of good person in Akaashi, but he takes another bite of his delicious food and says: “I actually have few questions to ask you. Let’s continue our dinner, I apologise for being distracted.”

 

Bokuto stares at him ( _that’s rude,_ Akaashi wants to say) and his face slowly breaks into another smile, genuine and warm this time, though still small. “I’m all ears.”

 

That night, Akaashi goes to bed with full stomach, new knowledge about Bokuto and mixed feelings. He loves volleyball and listening to poetry, although he doesn’t always understand it. He keeps losing one sock of the pair like all the poor people and his mother finds the things he’s looking for on the exact spot where he’s searched at least hundred times before.

 

 

**

 

“You need to straighten up,” Bokuto comments as he watches Akaashi. He observes him carefully, pointing out each move Akaashi is too nervous to nail like he _normally would._ He wonders if Oikawa and Sugawara too get nervous in front of their clients sometimes.

 

“I’m really trying,” he sighs, one step away from giving up. “What else I’m supposed to do?”

 

Unaffected, Bokuto hums and taps his chin. Akaashi can almost see the bulb spinning above his head before it lights up and Bokuto snaps his fingers, reaching for one book of the shelf across the sofa. It is quite thick. “Put it on your head.”

 

Akaashi stares. He’s been told it’s rude, by Sugawara, but Akaashi thinks it’s reasonable when Bokuto hits him up with the cheesy training princess scene from girls’ romance movies. “Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me,” Bokuto grins at him and hands the book to Akaashi.

“What the hell? Books should go in your head, not on,” Akaashi mutters grumpily, but holds the book on the top of his head anyway.

 

“I know,” the older man says, still smiling. “Try walking straight first.”

 _Ha_ – Akaashi cannot even _be_ straight. “Fine.”

 

With a deep breath, he removes his hands – and the book falls down immediately. Bokuto laughs as Akaashi bends down to pick the damn thing up, repeating his previous actions, more cautiously this time. He manages three steps before the book is on the floor again.

 

“We have a long way to go,” Bokuto pats Akaashi’s back.

Akaashi pouts and shakes the hand off himself. He can’t help the small smirk though. “Show me how it’s done then.”

 

Bokuto accepts the challenge with a grin and grabs another book, thicker than Akaashi’s, and places it on his head. Much to Akaashi’s annoyance, he walks gracefully and the book won’t move an inch.

 

“You make it look easy,” Akaashi sulks and straightens his back, mimicking Bokuto. The man laughs again and for some reason, Akaashi doesn’t mind.

 

 

**

 

“It was wonderful!” Oikawa exclaims from the sofa with pleased smirk on his lips. “What about your last date, Kou-chan?”

“It was good. I had a very polite client who likes nature,” Sugawara replies before both men look at Akaashi.

 

“I am waiting for an opportunity to kill him, take his money and run away. Probably change my name and get plastic surgery as well.”

 

Oikawa, in all his glory, sighs loudly. “Now, now. It cannot be that bad.”

“He made me walk around with book on my head.”

“Brilliant idea! You do need to straighten your back a little!”

 

Akaashi chuckles. “Right.”

“Seems like you finally get on though,” Oikawa raises eyebrows.

“Oh. No. We don’t. I don’t like the guy.”

 

_Not at all._

 

 

**

 

Some days, he and Bokuto simply hang out, without any particular task to do. Akaashi doesn’t really understand why Bokuto invites him over and then pays him for nothing, but he’s not going to complain when he finally doesn’t have to work in the terrible store anymore.

                             

Bokuto sits on the armchair next to the sofa where Akaashi is and turns the huge TV on the wall on, changing the channel to some cartoon. Akaashi isn’t sure how long it takes, but he falls asleep quite quickly, curled on the sofa more comfortable than his own bed.

 

When he opens his eyes again, Bokuto is no longer watching the television; he is reading some book, his hair falling into his face. He notices Akaashi within seconds and smiles at him, like Akaashi just did not fall asleep during his ‘working time’. (Even though he does nothing today, he still feels like that was simply inappropriate.)

 

“Hey.”

“Hi. I’m so sorry,I-“

“Don’t worry, Akaashi. You seem overworked, I’m sorry about that. I guess it is a lot to learn in such short amount of time.”

 

Akaashi nods wordlessly and rubs his eyes, before he realises his fatal mistake – the smudged eyeliner on the back of his hand is a great reminder that he most likely looks like a panda now. Bokuto closes the book and puts it on the table, leaning closer to Akaashi. Akaashi holds his breath as the man swipes his thumb under his eyes gently. Unintentionally, Akaashi leans into the touch.

 

It’s only a short moment, only seconds long, and then it’s gone. The man across him pulls away and opens his book again like none of this happened. Akaashi watches him, unable to tear his eyes away.

 

He looks peaceful like this – normal guy enjoying his free time. Akaashi decides that he likes him this way the best (not that he _likes_ Bokuto by any means).Bokuto looks back at him seconds later and for a moment, Akaashi forgets that Bokuto is rich, that he isn’t here with Bokuto just because he can and want to.

 

“What is your favourite time of the day?” he asks to fill the silence that’s threatening to soon become tense.

“I think.. It’s during fall, when the sun is already down but it’s still not a complete darkness. And you can watch the sky slowly getting black and the stars come out.”

“I expected you to say sunrise or noon,” Akaashi admits.

“Why?” Bokuto chuckles and pushes his hair out of his face.

 

And honestly, Akaashi himself doesn’t know the answer either.

 

“You seem like a happy person?”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto laughs, “Then what is yours?”

Akaashi scratches his arm. “Mine is when it rains during summer.”

 

The man smiles. “I think that suits you.”

 

 

**

 

Akaashi works his ~~ass~~ bottom off, he really does. The etiquette is his ~~bitch~~ lady now.

 

 

**

 

“Is this where you normally eat?” Akaashi asks, patting his mouth with a tissue, while his friends use their hands to wipe the remains of the sauce. He feels kind of weird, but he quickly brushes it off.

Sugawara smiles at him, but it’s not his usual kind of smile Akaashi ignores it as he looks at his new watch. “Sometimes, when the work is going well.”

 

Akaashi nods an orders a dessert after his delicious lunch. He leaves the tip almost as big as his bill. He misses the look Oikawa and Sugawara share this time.

 

 

**

 

They share headphones one day, listening to music on Akaashi’s phone. Bokuto asks him to play one song on repeat and Akaashi gladly obeys as he touches the icon above his favourite song of all time.

 

 

**

 

Bokuto finds out he’s ticklish.

 

“TIME OUT!” Akaashi shouts, out of breath as he manages to run away and punches the wall. The shelf above him ( _really_ smartly placed _,_ he thinks) wobbles and the next thing he knows that all those glasses previously on it are falling right onto his head. Bokuto is next to him in instant, his hands gently brushing through his hair in search of any injury. Akaashi is fine though; only entirely and utterly embarrassed.

 

“I’m so sorry!”

 

“Akaashi, you could have gotten seriously _hurt,_ “ Bokuto sighs, his hand sliding down to hold Akaashi’s cheeks. Akaashi doesn’t move – because of the sharp shards around his feet and because of Bokuto stealing all his personal space.

 

“I’m okay,” he huffs.

Bokuto sighs again. “Are you sure?”

 

Akaashi looks at Bokuto’s face, so honest with worry, and nods. He straightens up, as if Bokuto wouldn’t hear his reply from his spot. They’re inches away, so close that Akaashi can see all the colours reflecting in Bokuto’s eyes from the sun setting outside – they are _so_ beautiful.

 

“Yes,” Akaashi finally breathes out, almost scared that if he answered normally, his voice would be too loud.

“Erm, good, yeah,” Bokuto mumbles and pushes himself away, clearing his throat.

 

Akaashi wishes the man kissed him instead. _This_ _cannot be happening._

 

 

**

 

“Akaashi,- “ Bokuto looks at him, his eyes narrowed. “Oh, wow.”

“ _What_?” Akaashi frowns.

“You look.. good.”

“You don’t like it?” Akaashi asks, hastily looking down at his white shirt and long brown coat combined with black pants. Even his shoes are nice and clean and shiny. “I bought this the other day and thought it’s appropriate for today.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bokuto mutters in his worn out jeans and band t-shirt, sneakers on his feet. “ _Of course,”_ Bokuto says through gritted teeth.

 

Akaashi isn’t if he’s done something wrong, but Bokuto never says he has and so he forgets about it.

 

 

**

 

“And this guy – he’s a head of one company that works with ours. Don’t be fooled by his looks, he’s a terrible person.”

“He looks like an asshole to me,” Akaashi hums. “I mean, look at his _moustache_.”

 

Bokuto laughs and nods, showing Akaashi a photo of another to be guest on the family party.

 

 

**

 

The day of the party arrives sooner than Akaashi expects. He spends whole day preparing. He gets a haircut, cleans his face, takes off all his piercings and puts on his second – and better – suit. When he waits for Bokuto outside the building where the man lives, he feels good about himself. Bokuto is strangely quiet, but Akaashi lets it be.

 

It goes well, if he can say so. Akaashi talks to people and people seem to want to talk to him. They compliment him, unlike Bokuto, and Akaashi enjoys it, enjoys the good company and expensive wine. He enjoys dancing with various women who can’t tear their eyes away from him and whisper in his ear.

 

He _enjoys_ it.

 

 Until the second he sees a waiter, about his age, with messy hair, being yelled at by the man Akaashi’s laughed with a half hour ago.

 

Akaashi freezes in the middle of the room, not caring about his dance partner giving him confused look. The people around him have _everything_ , and yet they’re so hungry for more, more, _more_. They would walk over dead bodies in their shiny shoes and clothes that cost more than Akaashi’s whole life with fake smiles and empty words.

 

“ _No_..”

 

He is supposed to hate them, he is supposed to _be better than them_. It sickens him, it sickens him so much the air is stolen from his lungs and all he knows is that he’s dragged somewhere else.

 

His head is spinning.

 

Someone is talking to him.

 

When his eyes focus again, he sees Bokuto leaning close to him, his eyes wide with worry.

 

“Akaashi, breathe,” Bokuto whispers.

 

He seems.. Troubled. Disappointed? Sad, perhaps. Akaashi can’t read him at all, not in a daylight, not now under the black sky on the balcony. Akaashi nods quickly and gasps for air, trying to mimic Bokuto’s breathing.

 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greets the man. He can feel the older man’s breath against his lips. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes ask the question for him. Akaashi nods and closes the distance himself, kissing Bokuto, finally.

 

Bokuto responds immediately, his arms finding its way around Akaashi’s waist, dragging him as close as he can. Akaashi is about to place his own palms on Bokuto’s neck when the other man pulls away and Akaashi’s hands stop in the air.

 

“Let’s get you home,” is all Bokuto says.

 

Bokuto lingers on his lips for the rest of the night, even if Akaashi doesn’t remember much of it.

 

 

**

 

It is raining outside. He forgot to bring his umbrella, Akaashi thinks bitterly. “I quit.”

 

“I figured out that much,” Bokuto says quietly from his desk. He doesn’t even look up at Akaashi.

“That’s all?”

“I suppose. Thank you for your hard work.”

 

Akaashi steps closer and slams his fist on the desk. Bokuto looks up at him, his expression tired. “The money will be sent by tonight.”

 

“I don’t care about money! You _kissed_ me!”

“Yes you _do care_!” Bokuto groans and stands up. “It just didn’t feel right, you know?” Bokuto laughs humourlessly. “I don’t want to be kissing you.”

 

“I.. You did! What is wrong with you?”

“No, what is wrong with _you?!_ You’ve turned into one of them!”

“YOU wanted me to!”

“No!” Bokuto glares at him. “ _I have never wanted you to be like this_!”

 

“I wanted,” the man continues, “I want to kiss _Akaashi_. I want the Akaashi with piercings and messy eyeliner, the one that wears black and leather and is rude and swears and doesn’t let other people push him around and hates rich people.”

 

Akaashi stays frozen, his lips parted and his heart breaking. And it’s foolish, really, because Akaashi _isn’t one to believe in love._ He shakes head and storms outside, leaving Bokuto and his stupid feelings behind.

 

 

**

 

“You can’t raise the price just like that!” Akaashi frowns at the fat-pig excuse of a man in front of him.

“I can,” is the reply, followed by a smirk. “Not like you have problems getting money these days, are you?”

“ _You stupid-“_

 

“Watch your mouth, you little bastard! You either pay or move out by next week!” The man yells and Akaashi earns yet another punch into a face before he is left alone in the shitty flat, bleeding from his nose and back at where he was before he met Bokuto. He doesn’t know what’s worse.

 

He slumps down on the floor and tilts his head back, keeping his hand under his nose. He’s fucked up, he’s so fucked up-

 

Perhaps the new jacket was too much. Or it was treating Oikawa and Sugawara last week. Or it was the first proper piercing. And most likely, it has been Akaashi throwing away all the money for the first time in his life, only because he was sure he would get more the next day.

 

No, no, no, _no_.

 

Akaashi groans and covers his cover, shouting into his own palm. He isn’t one of them, he _cannot_ be, not him.

 

 

**

 

“Are you sure?” Sugawara asks him carefully as he holds the plastic bag.

“Positive,” Akaashi sighs, part of him still attached to the meaningless things. However, he will get there, he knows he will.

 

The other man nods and places the bag full of clothes down, patting Akaashi’s shoulder. “The old man has picked a right guy.”

 

 “He didn’t. I- I hated them so much and you warmed me and I got lost in it.”

Sugawara hums. “Perhaps. The important thing, however, is that you managed to get yourself out of it and owned up to your mistakes.”

 

 

**

 

Akaashi takes a deep breath, gazing down at his black skinny jeans paired with the leather jacket as he knocks on the door. The man doesn’t let him wait for long. Before he can speak up, Akaashi holds up his hand and bows.

 

“Please let me introduce myself. I am Akaashi Keiji, 23 years old. I’ve grown up in poor family and didn’t get to finish school because my mother fell sick. An old man was kind enough to give me job even though I doubted it. My colleagues became my friends and taught me all I know. I terribly disappointed my first client, who was also very kind to me from the day one. I hated him for being rich, but I failed to realise that his money never got into his head like it did to me. I like him now, but he doesn’t like me. So I gave away all the things I bought with his money and I can only hope he will forgive me for my foolishness.”

 

There’s a silence while Akaashi is still bowing, too scared to look up.

 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto laughs and tugs on his jacket. “You need to straighten up.”

“I do.”

 

 

**

 

“How is your boyfriend doing?” Oikawa asks, his mouth full.

“My what?”

“You heard me, Kei-chan.”

“I don’t.. I-“

“Akaashi,” Sugawara chuckles, “Why do you think we were assigned to train you?”

“Because you are good?”

“Because we are the only two who accept both female and male clients.”

 

_Well, that explains a lot._

 

“He is doing good, thank you for asking.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am not satisfied with the ending completely, but it's not getting any better than this T-T
> 
> I found my love for writing bokuaka again, so I am shamless as I post 3 bokuakas in such short amount of time


End file.
